


Warm Water

by e1even



Category: Naruto
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Strap-Ons, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2015-07-24
Packaged: 2018-04-11 01:51:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4416476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/e1even/pseuds/e1even
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kakashi helps Iruka take a break after a long day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Warm Water

**Author's Note:**

> Can you believe this was supposed to be PWP? Takes place in the break between Naruto and Naruto: Shippuden. Sadly, not the intended bathroom sex fic it was meant to be, actually much less explicit than intended. Warning for a transgender character in a sexual situation, if you haven't seen the tags.

Sun fading, late afternoon into early evening, light drifting in between the slats of the window blinds into the small bathroom.

Iruka liked watching the dust particles in the sun streams, unwind after some too long day even if it was back to grading papers afterwards. These moments were all for himself, he, and water, and floating, and sun, and yelling from somewhere in the apartment below him.

These moments were were about as peaceful as things got, and if he immersed his head in the water, the sharp words turned into low, muffled tones, glossing over the ambient sounds of the room.

Between the end of the day, and night, no one was looking for him (or if they were they were unsuccessful), he didn't need to do anything,

Iruka was maybe completely sure his bathtub was his favourite place in his apartment, showerhead up above one end, but, the charm wasn't in the fixtures or decor.

No one expected anything of him in here.

While taking a bath couldn't really make his shoulders less tight or ease a little bit of the ache in his wrist (so much writing these last few days) for any meaningful amount of time, in the minutes he was here he didn't have to think about it. Just, momentarily as the warm water lapped at his skin, time was molasses and muscle pains were dissolved.

Yet, he had to get out _sometime_.

Iruka sighed as he pulled himself out, shivering at the cool air of the bathroom. Duty calls, even if duty was a stack of tests to grade.

The air in his apartment wasn't cold, but still felt cool in comparison to the bathroom, even through his shirt and sleeping pants. Iruka sighed, the sun was almost gone, and it was about time for him to get back to work.

Right before Iruka walks into the kitchen, he smelled tea (though, he didn't put any on, so, someone else must've, though he lives alone,) and he walks right in anyways, knowing exactly who was waiting for him. (He always did like to announce his presence in a subtle way.)

"You don't always have to come in through the window, you know that right?"

Iruka said, leaning against the doorway, looking in.

Somehow, this was ridiculously domestic.

"Well, you said if I ever needed to talk..."

Kakashi was sitting at his table, cup of tea in hand, gloves in front of him, face mask replaced by some bandana which is usually for sleep, or something, and though he technically just broke in, he's some sight for sore eyes.

Not that Kakashi was really an unusual visitor, he was in town, no missions, no espionage, no secrets to go hunting for or covering up, Iruka was still happy to see him, no worse for the wear.

Too many people hardly managed to come back, too many never came back at all.

They were a society of mercenaries, but that never softened the blow, never made it easier until you became numb to it.

"Talking is the least of what we've done."

Iruka replies, taken aback by the fact he was basically being quoted, and Kakashi laughs, or, chuckles, some warm weak dry sound, still like he rarely does it.

Iruka knows it's a bad reply, not really bringing the conversation anywhere, because his head is in the clouds, wondering about Kakashi, how he's feeling, how Iruka's never met anyone so closed off in his entire life.

Kakashi still probably hasn't told him _everything_.

The window's open, maybe Kakashi forgot to close it, and there's just so many insects out Iruka just walks over to do it himself.

"I made some tea for you, too."

Kakashi says, motioning towards the other mug on the table. The sun continues to set and it's maybe the right colour to match the flutter in his heart and the aroma of jasmine.

Not that he had jasmine tea, he ran out last week, Kakashi probably brought it with him, Iruka couldn't help but feel a little off balance, even if Kakashi was intruding, he still should be a good host.

Iruka sat down, opposite Kakashi. It wasn't so late that they couldn't go get something to eat, but, at this time most people have already had dinner.

Kakashi probably only wanted someone to antagonize with his company, not keeping many people close.

"What do you need today, then?"

Silence pooled between them, akin to the way water was probably still in puddles on his bathroom floor.

(Maybe he should go wipe those, before they cause a leak in the apartment below. It wouldn't be the first time it happened.)

These silences weren't easy, or thoughtless. They were a little heavy with anticipation, mostly awkward around the edges.

Iruka's not sure how much experience Kakashi really has interacting with people, just as himself.

"How was your day?"

Kakashi replies, seemingly ignoring Iruka's question, if he didn't catch the little answer implied, answering ' _a conversation_ ' between the lines.

"Long. Boring, and somehow stressful. You?"

His days almost seemed empty without Naruto, somewhere, making his life harder. The monotony really felt like it was eating at him, this way, no one could ever hope to raise that kind of ruckus, these days. His classes almost seemed peaceful in comparison. (However much Konohamaru tried, and Kages, did he ever _try_.)

His day wasn't even over yet. It's not over until his work is packed for the next day, his back is to his sheets, and whoever was in the next apartment over's bed was making a rhythmic 'thud' against his wall.

Iruka could sleep through it, he was a ninja, after all. (Really, why he didn't just move his bed was an enigma.)

...Even if some small, vindictive part of him loved to return the favour to his neighbour, every single chance he got.

"Well, I'm still on standby, expecting a B or A soon."

Kakashi was always more spirit than solid, so unbelievable in looks and action and theory, and he just drifted in and out. This happened with Konoha, his apartment.

Kakashi's voice seemed soft, a little weary. He clearly wasn't worn out entirely, but let a little weakness, tiredness, grumpiness and neurosis show, these days.

"Ah. Any news about Naruto?"

Iruka asks, (he always asks, there's never news,) and Kakashi gives him a fond sort of look.

"No."

The simple answer sat between them, and Iruka took the opportunity to drink his tea, reflect on the day.

They both missed him. Naruto had grown on him, to the point he considers them almost kin. They both lost their parents to the Kyuubi, and, well, he needed someone to look after him, being that he's still a kid, not just the fox's vessel.

Kakashi, maybe missed him in a similar way. He also seemed to provide advice, guidance, references and support, if in a roundabout manner to Naruto.

Iruka may just be a teacher in the day, sometimes a glorified clerk by evening, but he found his job hard to approach without a heavy heart.

They were children, of course. All the children in the village. Playful, naive, selfish, loud, and a handful to deal with.

Yet, they were also ninja. The same ones who'd become genin, soon. Born to heritages of blood and war and death, so much death it practically permeated the soil and the air and the soul.

Iruka never worried if they were bad people, but what kept him awake at night was that realization. (Well, when it wasn't his neighbours.) They were children of mercenaries, this was their past, this was their future. He had to watch them, every day, become familiar and acquainted with each and every one of them, and it weighed him down, knowing that they were learning about basic things, but also of subterfuge and weaponry and violence.

Iruka couldn't sleep, like that. Feeling like he was sending lambs to the slaughter. Thrusting children into a world so much more harsh and serious than they should have to deal with. (Genin missions were nothing serious, but they were only ever a stepping stone.) He wondered if parents felt the same, watching those kids grow and be shaped for this society of hired help, hired assassins and thieves and bodyguards before they really were ready for it.

Maybe that was parenthood, maybe this was the duty of a people of war.

He wonders if Kakashi understood that weight, having mentored so many, or in that past he seems to do his best to stay in the blind spot of.

"I'm not intruding, I hope?"

The mood seemed sour around them, and Iruka was certain his thoughts were most of the cause.

"Literally, yes. Contextually, no. I just have some work to do."

Iruka sighed, drank the tea without savouring it like he really meant to. Too much to do, too soon. He wanted to stay inside his head longer, in the weird place where time didn't matter he set aside for himself so he didn't end up burning out.

Probably just staving off the future, though. That was often the case.

Kakashi's voice was somehow clearer this way, when he left off his face mask. He said it chafed, sometimes. Iruka usually knew it implied Kakashi wanted to stay the night.

(Knew he'd let Kakashi stay the night.)

“Sounds busy.”

Kakashi replied, trying to sound sympathetic, before standing up, moving to sit next to Iruka.

In many ways, he was actually a little bit of an awkward man, always speaking more in actions and subtle sentences than words. Iruka had grown used to trying to read between the lines, respond as honestly as he could.

“Would be less busy if I could read your reports, Kakashi.”

Iruka said, scooting his chair closer so they were pressed side to side.

Kakashi was so warm, somehow. Iruka noticed he was just about done his tea, when Kakashi decided to sling an arm around his waist, Iruka unintentionally flinching at the gesture.

"Oh? Iruka-sensei, you're tense. Maybe I can help you unwind?"

Kakashi says, tone seductive as he shifted in close to Iruka, mouth closer to his ear, settled his hands on his waist, both of them ignoring the fact 'forget' would be more accurate than 'unwind'.

Forget about the world, forget about the day, forget about anything but the moment between the two of them.

Iruka stood up first, grabbing Kakashi's hand, leading him over to his bedroom.

"Your fingers are pruny, sensei."

He's remarking, and they're both stumbling around, two adults in some tiny apartment, really it'd be easier if he let go, but Iruka wants to keep the contact between them.

"You're paler than Shibi Aburame's buttcheeks."

Iruka replies, somehow they've stopped, leaning against the door to his room, and he's looking at Kakashi, and Kakashi's looking at him. Their fingers are still intertwined.

"Doesn't my skin look so good on yours?"

Kakashi says, holding up their hands, as if trying to show Iruka the contrast, Kakashi's pale fingers on his own dark hand. (It was mesmerizing, sometimes.)

“It’s blinding.”

And Kakashi's now reaching back, undoing the bandana he was using instead of his face mask, hand moving down, probably tucking it into his pocket, but Iruka didn't want to look away from his face.

"It's rude to stare, Iruka."

Kakashi murmurs, half sincere and half scolding. Iruka knew he was being a little rude, Kakashi didn't really like to be looked at like that, but he couldn't really help but do so.

He knows basically no one else has seen that face, or, hardly anyone, and there was just something so intimate about that idea. More intimate than their relationship. Ironic as a symbol, he saw Kakashi's true face but didn't get to see his true self, or, not all of it. Not yet.

"Sorry."

Iruka breathes, pulling them both into his room, stopped staring at Kakashi's strong bone structure, fine chin, that cute little mole offsetting the hitai-ate he kept lopsided to cover the sharingan.

Did he really leave his blinds open all day? Damn it, everything from the bed cover to the tiny slab of carpet is going to fade at this rate. Maybe he should move it, and the photos, and no matter where he tried to look he ended up back at Kakashi.

"You know what your looks do to me."

Iruka doesn't see a need to respond, (Kakashi probably both meant his looking and his own appearance or something, did he have to speak eloquently right now?) hands pulling at Kakashi's flak jacket, while Kakashi's hands are sliding underneath his waistband, palms settling over his hips, rubbing gently over the fabric of his boxers. (His hands were so warm, in comparison to the air around them.)

Something kept him out of the moment, just creeping around the fringes of his mind, something beyond Kakashi touching him, but it's gone in a second.

Iruka froze as he felt Kakashi's hands move up, slide his hands underneath the boxers too. (It always surprised him how slowly Kakashi would take him, how gentle he could be.)

"So naughty, sensei. You're not even wearing any panties."

Kakashi said, voice dark and Iruka's trying to ignore the fact he squeaked when Kakashi moves, unexpectedly, one hand grabbing his ass and the other on his cock.

"Probably because-ah! I'm wearing b-boxers."

Iruka struggles to get out because Kakashi's hand is moving and it's rough and at some point Kakashi slid off his pants and his boxers so he could have a much better grip.

Maybe worst, he can feel himself blushing because of Kakashi's damn words. (Kakashi knew him too well, how to push his buttons, seemed to enjoy nothing more.)

Then, he stopped moving entirely, hands moving to a much more innocuous position on Iruka's waist and Kakashi's voice is low and the was he was looking at Iruka told him they were nowhere close to finished.

"... _Would_ you wear panties for me?"

Kakashi whispered, breathy and teasing. Iruka shoved at him, feeling his ears go warm at the statement.

"Shut up and strip."

He sputtered, trying to find the shards of his composure. Kakashi wasted no time pulling off his shirt, pants, whatever. (All the time he wasted taking his time undressing Iruka was really made up here, Iruka’d enjoy the chance but Kakashi was fast, and, he didn’t want to waste anymore time this early in the evening.)

Iruka unceremoniously took off his pants the rest of the way, dumping them on the floor. Kakashi's pulling him over to the bed, pushing him down.

"You seem occupied."

Kakashi says softly, right by Iruka's ear as he joins him on the bed, crouched over him.

The words aren't heated, or teasing. They seem genuinely concerned, and that would be touching if he didn't want Kakashi touching him _right now_.

"Nothing, keep going."

Iruka' replying, mostly breathless, then Kakashi's pulling away, shifting to lay beside him, look at him.

His bed wasn't huge, so there wasn't a lot Iruka could see, or a lot of space Kakashi could give him, but the air feels thicker with tension than it did with humidity, and, maybe he had a point.

"Is it about the Sasuke ordeal?"

Kakashi says, and Iruka thinks he'll never get used to watching Kakashi's mouth move as he talks, even as he's trying to suppress an appalled chill up his spine.

"We are _not_ talking about my students when we're having sex!"

He said, maybe louder than he should have. Kakashi smiled for a moment before dropping the expression entirely.

"We're already having sex?"

Iruka had to suppress a laugh at that, tried to keep his face under control, stay on topic.

Kakashi's hitai-ate gleamed under the dim lighting, reminding Iruka, probably unintentionally, of his own responsibilities, even if they weren't technically his anymore.

"We are not mixing my students with this, Kakashi."

He reiterated, trying to send the moment to a screeching halt. They were both too worried, too concerned over this, everything.

"They're actually my students, or, a chuunin, a genin, and a traitor."

Kakashi replied, and everything felt solemn.

Here they were, naked together in bed, close enough to touch. Iruka knew that if they were younger, he'd probably jump Kakashi right now, having a body like that, face like that, personality like that. There wouldn't be this pause where they're both just sitting there in quiet doubt and questions of emotions.

Then again, were they younger, he'd be with Mizuki, was always with Mizuki. The memories of him chilled Iruka to the core, made him feel like a fool making childish mistakes.

Kakashi would be back in ANBU maybe, risking his life. They'd be earlier versions of the same people, and probably not together.

"I never expected this to happen."

He said softly, looking down. Iruka felt like he got lost in his own feelings, saying something to himself, and to reply to Kakashi.

"That's Naruto 'the most surprising ninja' for you."

Kakashi sighed, probably at his own joke. Iruka could feel his turmoil from here. Maybe he had a couple hundred things he wasn't ready to say out loud.

He wonders how many of those things were blame.

Iruka's still happy that all those mistaken paths could lead to whatever this haphazard start of a relationship is, hoped Kakashi would feel similarly if he spoke that sentiment aloud.

"To think he'd really leave, though."

Iruka doesn't want to consider their heavy hearts might be what brought them together.

"Smart kids aren't always good ones."

Kakashi says, solemn, and Iruka finally looks back up at him, and really, it's surreal. Coarse silver hair, sticking up, Kakashi's thin, wiry frame. Lanky arms, fine hands, scars, all over. (The faint one down his arm, the long gash down the side of his face, the couple underneath his pecs, a jagged one down his back.)

Iruka knows better now, than to say he's in love, but the reality was Kakashi was gorgeous, to him. If he thought things out a little less, was less afraid of breaking, he could be smitten, could only wonder if Kakashi felt the same.

"He's not innately bad."

Iruka breathes, reaching out to run his hand up Kakashi's side. (Maybe Kakashi had a point in pointing out the contrast between their skin.)

"Life does funny things."

And Kakashi's hand is touching his face, gently, and this moment still exists solely between the two of them, Kakashi looking at him, grey eye focused, sincere.

There's the sound of muffled shouting from the apartment below, and Iruka couldn't care.

"Weren't you supposed to be helping me relax?"

Iruka says, smirking at Kakashi, trying to diffuse the moment, leaning over to kiss him, feeling lips part.

Maybe having a moment to regret is what he needed, they needed.

Kakashi's pulling away, and Iruka's only now realizing how warm Kakashi's making him feel, his apartment definitely can't be this warm, not at night.

"Iruka."

Kakashi mumbles, pulling Iruka closer so there's just so much more contact between them, skin on skin, legs intertwined.

“How are we doing this?”

He asked, really, this was secure, nice just the way it was, but he wanted to get moving, do something, not just lie here like this forever. Iruka couldn’t tell if Kakashi felt the same, that man had too much control over himself.

Kakashi answers by sitting up, pulling Iruka’s languid body up, with him. Iruka was fine with letting him lead the way, do whatever he wants. He didn’t know everything about Kakashi, his past, his present, but he could trust him, somehow.

This way, they’re kissing again, Iruka’s arms around his neck, sitting in Kakashi’s lap, and Kakashi’s hands are wandering down, he hears something open, breaks for breath, and wonders if they’re taking too much time as he feels Kakashi’s finger, wet with something, (did he seriously always carry lube?) slide in.

“Not wasting any time, huh?”

Iruka asks, speaking on a shaky breath, caught a little by surprise, but in no way protesting.

Kakashi doesn’t reply, brushes his lips against Iruka’s neck, and he’s moving his hand now, once he believes Iruka’s relaxed, soon slides in another finger, and Iruka relishes the slick drag of them against him, closes his eyes to just _feel._

He used to feel guilty, maybe frustrated, about how little Kakashi wanted him to touch him that way, how Kakashi had days he wanted to be, just sometimes, compared to how Kakashi always wanted to have his hands all over Iruka, take him apart and put him back together, yet he understood, wouldn’t push Kakashi’s boundaries, always kept the line defined.

This trust between them was everything to him, makes him wonder how he earned it, Kakashi was erratic, famous, eccentric, and so caring it surprised him. Only could learn about the man by sticking by him.

His throat felt raspy, as Kakashi just kept going, now curling in his fingers sometimes, when they’re in deep, making Iruka jolt, cry out a little every time. Kakashi seemed a little hasty, but Iruka’s the one who wanted to rush, wonders if that was communicated because this worked out just fine, for him, Kakashi was here last night, too.

“I’m good.”

Iruka whispers into the crook of Kakashi’s neck, (how’s his pulse still so steady?) wanting to get a move on, something, the slow burn of these feelings between them starting to become unbearable, he needed more, something more, to get going, actually fuck instead of being toyed with.

Kakashi pulls his hand out, the other still firmly against Iruka’s lower back, Iruka’s arms still around his neck, and he’s reaching behind him, probably left something there earlier, when he came in.

Wait, why did Kakashi _always_ assume they were going to have sex? Granted, they always did, it's arguably how this began, and Iruka’s a little too distracted to be concerned when Kakashi’s got a few things laid out over the bedsheets, movement beside them both, shifting Iruka’s weight as needed when he just tries to hold on, stay in the moment, anticipate the question he knows Kakashi will ask.

"Which one is to your liking today?"

Kakashi asks, fingers sliding back inside him, opening him up, and Iruka can hardly focus with the sudden entry, can hardly look over at some of the various _things_ Kakashi had laid out.

"D-Do you have to, a-ask?"

Iruka stuttered out, as Kakashi stroked over his prostate, trying to give Kakashi a skeptical look. (Really, he's just a little tired of having to tell his boyfriend that sometimes he left his dick at his apartment. Especially when he was on the job, because Kakashi came to talk to him when he's working at the missions desk, probably on purpose, usually while Anko is there and howling with laughter but damn it Kakashi _you_ think of a better way to say it.)

"But Iruka-sensei, if I don't how what you like, how am I supposed to please you?"

Kakashi stopped entirely, and Iruka was forced to pry open his eyes again, try to look, help Kakashi choose which strap on to go with so he'd just _keep going_.

Did he always have to word things in the most embarrassing way?

He just tries to motion, point, (the movement is graceless but damn it, Kakashi's still inside him, leaning over him, speaking softly, directly into Iruka's ear.

"Excellent choice."

He says, clearly pleased and Iruka wants to smack him before Kakashi could possibly say something else more annoying, taunting and somehow humiliating.

Kakashi was pulling away now, getting up, and Iruka wasn't sure if he really wanted to watch Kakashi have his moment, (the man usually took his time, adjusting straps, sometimes they'd play around, once Kakashi fastened one to the wrong thigh,) but time runs out, Kakashi's back on the bed, climbing back over him, a small smile pulling at his lips and an eyebrow quirked like he has some kind of terrible idea.

Iruka's learned a lot of the kinds of expressions Kakashi makes, most of them infuriating, some terrifying, some morose, and some, just, happy. They became small things that they shared, not because Kakashi was all that outwardly expressive, few ANBU were, but because he was at ease enough to react, let his guard down.

"You know, this one really is your favourite. Is it because it's curved just right?"

Kakashi suggests, crashing Iruka's train of thought into a giant crater of embarrassment.

"I'm going to kick you."

Iruka mutters impudently, did Kakashi always have to do this? (Not that he minded, really, maybe.)

"Oh?"

Kakashi's watching him, amused, sitting back on his knees, looking down at him.

He’s stunning, Iruka wonders if he knows, there’s no fucking way he couldn’t know how good he looks, black straps over pale skin, him in general, in dim light, over him.

Iruka doesn’t respond, didn’t need to, Kakashi’s leaning back down, over him, hand planted by his head, and Iruka feels him begin to press in, sighs at the feeling of being filled and stretched, breath catching a little from the burn.

They don’t talk as much, the heat between them simmering down, pooling below his stomach. The soundscape was limited to gasps, sighs, the rustling of the sheets, Iruka’s bed creaking, heavy breaths, sounds from the other apartments like water pipes and fans and voices through the walls.

That almost silence was one of the best things. Iruka was naturally a quiet person, apart from screaming at people, after people, Kakashi’s kind of quiet was maybe learned, maybe normal, but it was certainly a facet of them, now, with Kakashi’s long, slow thrusts, even like his breathing even when Iruka felt his growing uneven.

He’s probably going to keep at this until Iruka says something, does something, usually works, but today, the slow pace was what he needed, wanted. Iruka wasn’t ready to just drop everything, get back to work, get back to reality when this felt so far removed from everything else but the fact Kakashi was above him, looking at him, and his hands were trying to hold onto Kakashi’s arms, something, anything, since the feeling of being full, getting fucked was suffocatingly good.

He groans a little when Kakashi changes angle, rubbing up against somewhere particularly good. Iruka doesn’t try to hold back the sounds he’s making when Kakashi just repeats the motion, hand drifting down to stroke the head of his cock, didn’t stifle it, probably couldn’t if he wanted to, tried to provide feedback since Kakashi could probably take him apart with none at all, but their back and forth helped them both to work up to something earth shattering, shook him down to his bones.

Kakashi’s moving a little faster now, always keeping his hand in time with his thrusts, and the combined friction makes Iruka shiver, squirm a little, back against Kakashi, and that does it.

The next thrust is much harder than those before, and Kakashi keeps it up, and Iruka’s moaning now, having it drawn out and even if he wanted to be quiet, Kakashi liked it when he was loud, would try and draw it out of him anyways, take him harder, rougher until his composure was shattered and he was moaning and whining, clawing at his sheets, toes curling.

This wasn’t going to last long, not with the air hot and heavy around them, heat pooling down, and he’s hitching his legs up against Kakashi’s waist, trying to get closer to that feeling, Kakashi in deeper, crying out when Kakashi complies, fucks into him hard, deep, and Iruka’s close, he’s so close.

At some point, everything suddenly becomes too much and he's shaking and moaning and all that matters, and all he can feel is _Kakashi_.

Kakashi, breathing rough, deep inside him, Kakashi's one hand, away from his cock, holding fingers digging hard into his hips like he’s trying to stave off coming himself. (Iruka’'d probably find bruises there the next morning, before work.)

Kakashi sighing, pulling out, rustling, probably the harness, the sound of him sticking a hand in between the toy and himself, stifling a moan, some sounds, something falling by the bed, and just, Kakashi, snuggling up to him.

Kakashi 's arms around him, Kakashi draped over his back, face nuzzled into the back of his neck, breathing becoming steady, deep. The afterglow was amazing, he just wanted to let his eyes slide shut and drift.

Yet, the whole situation was kind of ruined by the realization that crap, he still had so many things to do, and that this diversion was not something he really had time for and now, he's probably have to go clean himself _again_.

(For a famous ninja, Kakashi's timing was sometimes nothing short of awful.)

Iruka struggled a bit, trying to free himself, yet Kakashi just held on a little tighter. He sighed in annoyance.

"I have things to grade."

He said weakly, desperately trying to find some reason good enough for Kakashi to let him get on with what he was _supposed_ to be doing.

"Mark me on my performance?"

Kakashi asked. (Kages, the man reminded him more of his students then he'd like, even if this particular habit arose from the fact he didn't really have the sensation to tell if Iruka was really feeling it.)

"Gold star, now let go."

Iruka chided, noting the night sky showed no trace of the fading colours that had been there earlier, the sunset having left stars in it's wake.

And, Kakashi was warm, and his bed was warm, and he didn't have anything expected of him in here, but that really didn't mean he could overlook his responsibilities, even if it would be _so_ much more convenient.

"Why?"

Kakashi whined, face still burrowed into Iruka's hair. He sounded like a petulant child, always asking more and more irrelevant questions to try and get his way.

"You displayed screwing me with a high level of proficiency and I would recommend you continue that at the advanced level, _now_ , let me go shower."

Iruka said impatiently, still trying to struggle free when Kakashi abruptly let go, almost falling out of bed.

"Only if I can join you."

Iruka sighed in resignation, craning his head so he could glare at the other. He couldn't really resist that kind of look from Kakashi, it was too pompous, too smug, weirdly hopeful and just too _Kakashi_ for him to have stood a chance.

"Mind if use your shampoo, Iruka-sensei?"

To have ever, _ever_ , stood a chance. (He could hear his smug grin from here.)

(Maybe he returned it.)


End file.
